


You're Going To Be Okay

by carmillasleatherpants (courtneyarnelle)



Series: Fill Me In [11]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: AU, Car Accidents, F/F, Future Fic, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 12:09:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2692460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courtneyarnelle/pseuds/carmillasleatherpants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The hospital. Laura’s in the hospital, because she’d been doing a Laura kind of thing and went to get you a welcome home gift. And, she ended up hurt in the hospital. </p><p>(Rated for language.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Going To Be Okay

**“Your flight is for** tomorrow, right?” Laura asks you and you switch the phone to your other ear before you answer.

“Yes, buttercup. We’ve been over this.”

“I know, I know.” You can practically hear her smile. “I just want to be sure. I really miss you.” If it were possible for you to soften anymore at the sound of her voice, the longing filling her voice as she spoke that last sentence did it.

“I miss you too. But I’ll be back tomorrow. Okay?” She makes a sound of understanding. “Just be patient, alright?”

“I will.” There’s a pause, and then she continues. “I love you.”

“I love you too, cupcake. I’ll call you later. Bye.”

“Okay. Bye.” You hang up the phone just as the flight attendants start to walk up and down the aisles asking people to shut off their electronic devices.

 _That was close._ You think to yourself, turning your phone off and tucking it into the back of your ripped skinny jeans. It’s going on eight years since you’d met Laura and your style hasn’t really changed a bit. However _you_ have changed more than you’d care to admit. Laura’s definitely made you a more considerate person at least.

You’d somehow managed not to entirely fuck up this relationship like every other relationship you’d been in. But you were never serious about those girls, and they never really cross your mind now. With Laura, things had been different almost as soon as you’d talked to her.

You’re glad she’d taken you back when you’d pushed her away near graduation. You would forever be grateful to her for not giving up on you when she had every reason to.

And tonight you were returning home to the love of your life. There was nothing in the world that could possibly ruin that. You’d been in New York for a week doing a few job interviews in anticipation of you finishing up with Law School.

You would have never guessed you’d end up in _Law School._ But there wasn’t much you could do with a Philosophy degree. While you don’t regret getting your degree in something you were interested in, it was inconvenient in the job area. You and Laura had moved into your own flat in Toronto right after graduation.

Moving in with her was more a move on your decision to show her how serious you were taking your second chance with her. And it was one of the first times you’d really dipped into the enormous sum of money your adopted mother had left for you after her death, aside from you and Laura’s college debt which was only logical.

Laura had protested you insistence of paying off some of her college debt. You’d have to work her for almost weeks before she’d eventually given in with the promise that you wouldn’t take care of too much of it because she was _“a big girl who can take care of herself.”_

You thought it adorable how she protested you spending your acquired wealth on things, but you wouldn’t use it for anything but spoiling Laura. Despite her protests the pleased look she’d given you when she saw that flat was one that you would imprint into your mind forever. If coming home early meant you might see that excited look on her face another time, there was no second thought in your mind when you found an earlier flight.

You smile to yourself and close your eyes, leaning your head back against the seat as the plane starts to move to take off.

* * *

 

 **You take an airport** taxi back to your flat. The driver doesn’t try to talk to you, which you’re grateful for. It was probably your own fault because you’d gotten impatient waiting for you bags so you’d been glaring when you get into the car. Laura would always try and convince you to try and smile more, but it wasn’t your fault your resting face was debatably murderous.

You spend the ride back home trying to decide exactly what you’re going to say to her. Laura had a strange way of making you feel tongue tied. Though when it came down to it, you could usually play it off with a snarky comment. You’re more than aware of how completely enraptured in her that you are. But after eight years with her, how could you be expected not to be?

When you pull up outside your house, you pay the man and pull your luggage from the back. You spare him a glance to watch him drive away, then turn your eyes back to your home. It’s still standing which is a good sign that Laura hadn’t managed not to burn the place down while you’d been away.

Laura’s all sugar diet hasn’t changed much and to keep her from giving herself a heart attack you cook for her a lot. The few times she’d attempted to cook when you’d first moved in, she’d set things on fire. She was better as of now with you cooking with her on Sunday afternoons for dinner, but you couldn’t help but worry.

Laura had a knack for getting herself into trouble.

You unlock the door and call out her name. In the first room to your right that you’d made the living room the television is on but when you peek in she’s not there. The news is playing as usual. Due to Laura’s job at the local paper if she wasn’t watching one of the numerous shows she kept up with, the news was on. You watched the news with her and pretend to pay attention just to see her excited face when she turns to you to debate about any event that sparks her interest.

You love when Laura gets passionate about something. The determination in her eyes adds a particular spark to her that makes you want to kiss her until you both pass out.

You call out her name again, but still receive no response. You walk to the kitchen and hear the soft sound of a “meow” behind you. You turn and see Ferguson in all his black, lanky glory. He pads towards you and rubs against your leg seeking attention and you stroke his back.

He purrs and then _allows_ you to lift him into your arms.

“Where’s mommy, Fergie?” You really hate calling him that, but Laura’s made the name grow on you. He mewls, but gives no helpful response. So you search the house in vain.

No Laura.

You curse, and sit down unceremoniously on the couch in the living room. Ferguson makes a sound of protest and leaves you alone on the couch, which you don’t mind. You pull your phone from your pocket to call her and find out where she might be.

As the phone rings you eye the television.

“—cars were heavily damaged.” The reporter stands on the side of the highway. Red and blue lights flash from police cars behind her, and she holds a hand to her ear as she talks. “The man involved has only sustained a mild concussion. The woman, however, took the brunt of the accident. We’re unsure of her condition, but she was rushed to the hospital with seemingly severe injuries. From her identification that was found in her car, the victim is named ‘Laura Hollis.’”

You phone drops from your hand, your mouth open in disbelief.

“—any information, please call—”

You start to see black around the edges of your vision and you grip the arm of your sofa in an attempt to balance yourself. This can’t be happening. It _can’t._

“—teddy bear with a welcome home card were found in the victim’s ca—”

You stand and run to the bathroom. You’re finding it near impossible to breathe. You grip the sink as you attempt to calm your breathing and you push your hair back as you look up into the mirror.

The _hospital_. Laura’s in _the hospital_ , because she’d been doing a _Laura_ kind of thing and went to get you a welcome home gift. And she ended up hurt in the _hospital_.

You throw up into the toilet. The dry heaves make you feel even shittier, but you somehow manage to keep yourself from crying.

You need to go get her. Or at least go see her.

She has to be okay.

* * *

 

 **After you’ve somewhat** **calmed** yourself down, you find which hospital she was taken to. You drive there as close to the speed limit as you can manage, because you don’t want to waste any time by getting pulled over for speeding.

You park and march inside. Everyone in the waiting room gives you wary looks that you ignore. You’re completely aware that you have a repulsive aura when you’re on a mission. It works to your advantage now, because everyone avoids your path at all costs as you move up to the desk.

“Can I help you?” The receptionist asks you and you narrow your eyes at her.

“Laura Hollis. She was brought here after a car crash, right? Tell me what room she’s in.” The woman raises and eyebrow at you and your glare at her. She sighs and turns to her computer, typing something into it and she pauses to read the screen before she replies to you.

“She’s in surgery right now, but if you step aside we can take you to her whe—”

“No. I need to see her _now._ ” You demand and the receptionist regards you with a mild amount of fear in her eyes. A hand falls on your shoulder as you’re about to dig into her and you slap the hand from your shoulder before you turn.

A man, much taller than you, is hovering above you with a gentle smile on his face. You notice first his scrubs, then his lab coat. Then the identification deeming him a doctor pinned to his chest.

“Did I hear you ask for a ‘Laura Hollis’?”

“Yes.” You answer after a cautious pause.

“If you’d step over here, I can explain what’s happened?”

“I—Okay.” You don’t seem the point in arguing. Especially when cooperating means you’ll find out Laura’s condition.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Carmilla Karnstein. Her fiancée.” It's not completely a lie, you _had_ promised each other forever.

You clench and unclench your fists in nervousness. The man regards you for a second, but you don’t care enough to find out his name. You have one focus. “Well?”

“Erm, right. Well I’m sure you know by now she was in a pretty bad car accident. She’s going to be fine. But the driver was intoxicated and was driving on the wrong side of the road. From what I’ve gathered, he slammed into the side opposite where she was sitting.

“Her car flipped. Luckily, she was wearing her seatbelt, so she wasn’t thrown around to badly. But she hit her head pretty hard on the steering wheel. Her leg also was broken and she twisted her wrist.”

You feel the bile rising to your throat as the image of Laura being thrown around in that car because of an _imbecilic bastard_ who'ddecided to drive while drunk.

“When can I see her?”

“When she gets out of surgery. Someone will come out and get you.” You take a breath and nod, then you sit down and focus on your breathing.

In. Out.

In. Out.

* * *

 

 **Its hours before someone** comes to get you. You sit and tap your foot and concentrate on the fact that Laura _will_ be okay in the end.

She’s hurt and pretty badly. But she is going to heal and be okay. You make yourself a promise not to leave her side until she does.

Someone above you clears their throat and you look up to see a nurse standing beside you with a kind smile on your face. You’re too tired to be rude to her and you grunt in question.

“Carmilla Karnstein?”

“Yes?”

“You can come see her now.” You stand slowly and stretch your back. Then you follow the nurse down some hallways, making a few turns and going up a floor or two. You honestly don’t pay attention. You’re worried and your thoughts are clouded.

The nurse opens the door without a word and you give her a nod before you step inside. The door closes behind you and you slowly turn your gaze from the toes of your boots to her bed.

She’s asleep and she looks impossibly peaceful. Laura’s face never looks this… Neutral. Even when she’s sleeping, there’s that furrow between her eyebrows and her lips are pursed in that pouty look she gets when she gets angry that you really just find incredibly adorable.

There are dark purple bruises along her hairline and a line of stitches above her right eyebrow. Her arm is in a cast and her leg is also in a cast and elevated.

She looks horrible. You look again at the peaceful look on her face and you hold back a sob. You force yourself to approach her and it’s just… Painful.

You put a hand on her shoulder and then you cup her cheek. You lean down to her and press a soft kiss to the bridge of her nose. Then you pull up a chair and sit next to her.

You take her hand in yours, ignoring the multitude of wires attached to her body. Her hand is cold in yours and you bite your lip and stroke her knuckles, but her hand has never felt more lifeless.

* * *

 

 **You don’t remember falling** asleep, but you wake up to a hand stroking your hair. You look up and see Laura awake and looking down at you from her propped up position. She smiles when your eyes meet.

“Hey.” She says. It’s so lame, and _so_ like Laura that you laugh.

“Hey, Laura.”

“Whoa. My given name? Must be pretty serious, huh?” She pales a bit when she tries to move and you place a hand on her shoulder to stop her. She stills and you swallow the urge to cry. You lace your fingers with hers and squeeze her hand gently.

“Hey, you’re fine.” You tell her, and you’re sure this is the gentlest you’ve ever talked to her. “Besides if anything happened to you, who would buy the cupcakes?”

She laughs and looks up at you with that same smitten expression as always. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the way she looks at you. As if you’re her guardian angel, you feel you’re far from it.

“You’re going to be okay.” You stand and place your free hand on the back of her head. And you press a soft kiss to her lips. You pull away sooner than you’d like and press another kiss to the tip of her nose. “Alright, buttercup?”

She nods and squeezes your hand. “As long as you’re okay. How was New York? I was going to get you’re a welcome home gift, but I guess that’s not going to happen.”

“New York was gorgeous, I’ll tell you all about it later. Just go back to sleep, okay? Get some rest.”

“I—No, I want to—” You give her a look that makes her stop her protests immediately and she sighs. “Fine.”

“I’ll be here when you wake up. Promise.” She nods and presses a kiss to your knuckles. Then she relaxes into her hospital bed, both her hands still held in yours.

She’s snoring in seconds and you smile in relief and gratitude.

Yeah, she was going to be just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> This took me a little longer than I wanted because 33 happened. And then, when I thought I was going to be okay, 34 happened.
> 
> However, I have the next one ready to post probably tomorrow or Monday. Thanks for reading!


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